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"𝐅uck," the woman beneath the ruthless killer managed to moan out between gasps of air and useless attempts to remove his hand from her throat with her bound hands.
His expression tightened along with his hands, one pinning her wrists bound by a black rope that matched her hair above her hand and the other remaining a tight grip on her throat.
All she could do was watch helplessly.
In this world, there are only hunters and prey.
The hunters learn to hunt, the prey learns to hide and run.
But what if the prey can no longer run?
"Shh, shh... you know who's next door, don't you, hm?" He spoke in a raspy voice as his left hand loosened her wrists, only to cover up the moans escaping her lips.
Just when he thought nothing could disturb his pleasure, a knock distracted his actions.
"Sir, it's me," a soft, seductive voice spoke.
That was enough for the man to stop dead and zip his pants up. He ran his hand through his hair and untied the woman, throwing her scattered clothes into her arms.
"Out through the other door, now!" He whisper-shouted. "I'll make it up to you, name the price. Now GO!"
Knowing the drill, the woman ran out through the back door as the man walked up to the door.
"Took you long enough," the wine-red-haired woman said. "Having 'one of those sessions' again, hm?"
"Let's remain professional, ______..." he cleared his throat.
She knew his guilty pleasure, all right.
"I doubt she's going to be too beneficial to us... all she has is a mere last name; her relationship with her family is horrible, dare I say," the woman spoke, picking up a half-full wine glass from his desk.
"How did you- hey, this isn't what I meant by remaining professional."
"I've known you for many years, ____________," she ran her fingers along the tip of the glass. "I would be the sorriest excuse for a partner-in-crime if I don't know what you're up to."
Observant as usual.
"When is it my turn?" She asked boldly, inching closer to his face.
That caught him off guard.
"Pardon?"
She laughed. "Just kidding. Did I get you excited there?"
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